THE BATTLE


The battle lines have been drawn…….the date set………..to their advantage on their turf.

The warriors polish their armour and chariots are ready to transport them to the battlefield.

The warriors enter the chained arena, sizing up their adversaries everyone takes up their position…….

…………there is a heaviness in the air – the crowds are hushed …………….

……the whistle blows……….

…..the netball match begins …….

On that whistle all hell breaks loose, our previously sweet nine year old little girls turn into ferocious animals.

Now traditionally netball is a non-contact sport – boy things are not traditional anymore.

Outside the arena the crowds are going wild – as each team scores a roar rises – no world cup game will ever have the enthusiasm of a netball parent watching.

The game is a blur, how the referees keep up with it is unknown and 20 minutes later (no quarter oranges at half-time) there is a winner and a loser.

Out of the arena come the warriors and as they pass through that chained gate – miraculously our sweet 9 year old princesses appear again……….till next week……..different place……….same time.

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